Summary: This week, one reader takes issue with the way architectural history student Seth Tinkham has framed the debate about preserving Modern architecture within a community, while a few more comment on the AIArchitect special edition on historic preservation of Modern architecture.

Re: Modern Buildings: A More Nuanced Notion of Worth, by Seth Tinkham

Mr. Tinkham has deliberately proscribed the debate in narrower terms than necessary. Americans have awakened to the fact that some of their buildings are older than some of the revered buildings of Europe to which they have often looked as examples of historic beauty and/or historic significance. All buildings are historic, in the broadest sense of the word, once they are completed. They are marked in time.

But all buildings are not beautiful ... and I am fully aware of the accusations of aesthetic cant to which such a statement bares itself.

Albany, N.Y., is older than St. Petersburg in Russia. Many of St. Petersburg's historic buildings are younger than some of Albany's. Some of Albany's buildings are at least as historically significant, i.e., marking important events in time and in context, as any of those in St. Petersburg.

St. Petersburg's urban core is beautiful. Albany's urban core is beautiful.

St. Petersburg has a few important Modern buildings, including one by Peter Behrens across from its ugliest cathedral.

Albany has a huge complex of Modern buildings across from one of its beautiful cathedrals. New York has a similar Modern complex across from its most historically important cathedral.

These bald statements cannot stand alone. They must be placed in some contexts ... societal, architectural, governmental, historical, geographical, etc.

Mr. Tinkham's critique of community perceptions is old saw. Common denominators never have defined excellence. Through the many newborn societies dedicated to appreciation, preservation, conservation, restoration, evaluation, and integration of existing buildings in the urban fabric of our times, communities are actually developing a sophisticated understanding that is not confined to PhDs, professors, and pedants in general, but open to plumbers, priests, prostitutes, et al.

Thus the problem of preserving Modern and even Modernistic structures is not dependent only on the critical postures of architectural theorists and historians but on the sense of history a community builds into itself. What buildings to preserve and which to demolish and finally banish from the face of the Earth certainly needs leadership from the profession of architecture and the academics who serve it, but it needs even more the leadership of those steeped in the evolution of those communities in which the buildings sit.

The mayor of Troy, N.Y., is trying to sell off its Modern city hall to a developer. The city hall, designed in 1973, at the cusp of America's love affair with both urban renewal and the imported New Brutalism, is located on the city's most spectacular site on the Hudson and forms part of a recently developed riverfront park. "It is falling down," claims the mayor, "and should be replaced with luxury apartments."

"It is our City Hall!" exclaim all residents attending a public meeting, "and must be saved as part of our heritage." This is happening in a city whose Historical Society and whose Hudson-Mohawk Industrial Gateway (society) have fought for years to preserve its beautiful 19th-century houses and the area's historic industrial buildings, too.

It is Penn Station all over again with a twist. Troy City Hall never made the front of Time or Architectural Record. Its architects did not win a national honor award from the AIA. But it is Modern. It has strong bones and clear lines. It offers beautifully framed views from its interior. It is the place outside which demonstrations take place. The annual Turkey Trot starts and finishes there. It makes, with its plaza and triangular "square," the only true piazza in the city, a gathering place centered on a war memorial and framed by an historic hotel and other remnants of the 1800s.

So should it be preserved? At what cost? Even if, in the eyes of many it is ugly? To some, it is a jewel, in a good setting. It certainly would be foolish to replace a diamond with an emerald, perhaps but is it okay to replace a topaz with a piece of travertine?

And who decides and how? What criteria are important and to whom?

The debate is merely beginning, Mr. Tinkham. Please don't circumscribe it before it starts. Robert's Rules are themselves out of order at this point.

—Patrick J. Quinn, FAIA
Albany, N.Y.

Re: The AIArchitect Special Edition on Historic Preservation of Modern Buildings

Isn't it interesting that the architectural community at large is embracing preservation only now that its precious Modern icons (those structures whose architects disdained preservation themselves) are threatened? Better late than never—welcome to the lodge!

—Mark C. Vinson, AIA
Tempe, Ariz.

An important issue, congratulations—have just begun to read the articles, one by one. Thank you.

—Margaret Bach, ASID, CID
margaretbachDESIGN
Santa Monica, Calif.

—Patrick J. Quinn, FAIA
Albany